For a time, I was really worried. My observation of some agitated Congress persons was leading me to believe that a new strain of virus had again escaped from some laboratory, or from a free range chicken who had inadvertently flown inside the Capitol. I concluded that contact with this virus affected the part of
"I've been clean for four days," my friend blurts out as we're walking our dogs in the park. "Wait! What?" is my shocked response. "I'm your best friend and you never confided in me that you had an addiction problem. What is it, drugs, alcohol?" "No," she says, "the news, I've given up the news."
Are you familiar with fad-speak? Sure you are. Or do I have to give you a wake-up call? Or tell you it’s time to smell the roses? Or maybe that you need a reality check. Because if we’re on the same page, then you should be having fun yet. Unless you’re having a midlife crisis.
Kellyanne Conway. I am in awe of you. But at the same time, you are an enigma. I regard you with such a broad spectrum of feelings that I have no idea how I’ll respond to you from one day to the next. Not that you care. You don’t know me. I’m a mere speck
Today is Tuesday, November 15th, one week after the election, and I’m sitting at my computer keyboard trying to be funny and write about anything at all as long as it has nothing to do with politics. But, as in my prior essay, I’m again trying desperately to ignore the elephant in the room. And
Friendships have a lot in common with a marriage. You are drawn to another person because, among other reasons, you like the same things, or he\she make you laugh, or because he is able to secure a reservation at the most popular restaurant in town. But then an important issue arises about which you and
To borrow a catch phrase from George Takei: Oh My! What a field day for the snarksters! Could we possibly be living in a better time? Pre-election daily life has turned into a satire of pre-election daily life. Such a plethora of new material with each news cast, tweet, and so-called presidential debate, one hardly
Are you, like I am, ready to throw in the towel? Cry uncle? Knuckle under? Abandon hope? Turn the TV screen to the wall? Make promises to God? Then you are, like I am, suffering from the malady known as Election Fatigue, or in drug company lingo, EF. And there are still fifty-four more days
I know I said you wouldn’t be hearing from me until mid-September, but I felt compelled to interrupt my hiatus to comment on the current political dialogue. You’re a liar. No, you are. No, you are. You’re lying right now. Liar, liar pants on fire.
When I started my website almost four years ago, I made a silent vow that there were three areas about which I would never write: family (husband being the exception), religion, and politics. And 86 essays later, I’ve managed to stay faithful to my promise. That is, until now. Unfortunately, there are some temptations that
